


That's Gay

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slurs, brock rumlow's fragile masculinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26963818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: warning: homophobic slurs and language used!
Relationships: Past Clint Barton/Brock Rumlow
Kudos: 7





	That's Gay

**Author's Note:**

> warning: homophobic slurs and language used!

“A shirley fucking temple?” Rumlow asks, seemingly offended.

“Uh, yeah.” I reply, knowing I’m missing something.

“That’s some gay shit. Bobby, gimme a beer.” He grunts, turning to the bartender.

“A drink is gay? Is the drink a man that has sex with other men?” I ask.

Rumlow laughs nervously.

“Y’know, it’s just gay. Fags get Shirley temples. Men get beers.” He says, taking a sip from his own glass. “You don’t want people thinking you’re a queer or some shit, Cap.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I ask pointedly.

“Well, y’know, it’s just-“ Rumlow stammers, clearly catching onto my anger.

“Save your breath. I’ve fought nazis. I don’t need another homophobe to argue with.”

I down my glass in one go and slam a twenty on the bar.

“Your beer’s on me.” I tell Rumlow, and stalk away.

I get on my motorcycle and I ride.

I let the wind whip through my hair and the roar of the motor fill my ears as I just ride, not caring where I’m going.

I find myself at the Avengers tower, holy shit.

The sun is rising, I was riding all night.

Might as well work out, I’ll get Tony to lend me a jet back to DC if Fury gets upset that I ditched the debrief that is scheduled for two hours from now.

Whatever, Rumlow can do it himself.

I park my bike in the garage and head up to the training gym, finding that Clint is already there, shooting arrows.

I go to the bench press and start lifting.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in DC?” Clint says while collecting his arrows.

“Ditched.” I say shortly.

“Lemme guess, Rumlow?”

“How’d you know?”

“I don’t envy you for taking over STRIKE, Rumlow’s the greasiest little asshole I know. Was he being homophobic, racist, or sexist? Or a combination of the three?”

“Homophobic.” I growl, hearing Rumlow’s cruel words in my head again. “Told me a Shirley temple is gay. It’s a drink!”

Clint chuckles a bit.

“Yeah, he’s pretty insecure. Don’t be fooled though, he’s a total bottom.”

“Uh...”

“Yes, I do regret sleeping with him. Most fucking fragile masculinity I’ve ever seen in a guy, kept saying he wasn’t gay wasn’t gay but then he was begging me to go faster-”

“I don’t need the details of your sex life, Barton.” I sigh.

I’ve known a lot of guys like Rumlow, ones that are so insecure they become assholes.

“Yeah. Point is, he’s a jerk about everything and it doesn’t matter what he says. His fridge at his apartment is full of power drinks that are all labeled specifically ‘for men.’ Seriously, the guy’s a major prick.”

“Yeah.” I say, setting down the weights.

“It fucking sucks.” Clint comments, and I nod. “Wanna spar?” He asks. “I’ll request you pull your punches, but it can be a good way to get the anger out.”

“Sure.” I agree. “It’s just, I thought things were better.”

“You and me both. Ready?”

I nod.


End file.
